


Apple

by MiladyPheonix



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, M/M, Pre-Reichenbach, Snow White Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 02:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17174129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiladyPheonix/pseuds/MiladyPheonix
Summary: A stunning pic from Anotherwellkeptsecret inspired this Snow White AU-ish. After Sherlock's meeting with Moriarty when he gets off the trail.





	Apple

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Anotherwellkeptsecret being far too talented.](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/443735) by Anotherwellkeptsecret. 



**I O U**

Sherlock rolled his eyes as the drama of it, bagged the knife for prints, and took a contemptuous bite out of the apple. John would be proud of him for eating some fruit for a change so he left the core on the table and then suddenly fell onto the couch. His head spun like he was free falling, probably should have tested that apple, clearly healthy living was about to kill him. He wondered if already eaten apples would still keep doctors away as his world went black.

**~~~**

He woke in confusion, a lot of confusion as he was winded from stumbling though the woods but he stopped when he realised that he didn’t recognise the trees or even know what he was running from. He spotted John in the distance and called but there was no response and John was leaving so he ran after him, stooping quickly to collect a tool John had dropped. “John! John, you dropped this.” He pressed the small pickaxe into John’s hand but there was no recognition in those blue eyes before John burst into vapid sounding giggles. “I’m always dropping something. Thank you kind sir" Sherlock recoiled as John strolled passed, clearly something was going wrong… the apple, Sherlock determined he was either hallucinating or dying and John would know but there was no John here, except for that Dopey idiot who was clearly no use to anyone.

He kept walking, no point in running as it was only a dream, or death, whichever way he could feel his heart race so something was happening. A thunderous sneeze caught his attention next and he huffed a sigh before he found John with one of his ever present handkerchiefs pressed to his face. Sherlock smiled as he recognised the handkerchief, if was one of his own that he had given to John when he tried to turn a taxi around rather than leave home without one.

The fine linen’s weave was incongruous with the homespun cloth this John wore and clearly John Watson was a fan of jumpers in every iteration. Sherlock wondered idly if a hallucination could take antihistamines since he always carried them after that case with the birds. He’d been the one sneezing then, John had smugly handed over his hanky and the next day handed Sherlock a pill box to keep in the Belstaff. “Bless you" He said calmly as he kept walking he knew that this John would not recognise him but the blank stare in those familiar eyes was going to get distressing very quickly.

He wondered how long he would have to walk for or if it would even matter that he was walking at all. The next John was half hidden behind a tree and emerged gazing at Sherlock with a look he almost took for recognition. “John?” Sherlock queried taking a step towards him. “oh I’m sorry kind sir, but I saw you and just had to talk to you” Sherlock felt his face fall, it was just John's standard look of amazement and Sherlock was just used to it being directed at him, though the look was still illuminating. “Oh god, you’re a bit Bashful aren’t you" He froze as the colour in John’s face deepened.

“I am kind sir, but you’re so beautiful. You’ve skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood, and hair black as a ravens wings and I’m sure every is a bit Bashful around those cheekbones too.” Sherlock flushed at the ernest praise and pecked a kiss to one blushing cheek, this latest John scurried off and Sherlock decided this hallucinating thing wasn’t half bad.

He was clearly stuck in some fairy tale, compliments of Moriary. He would have to test the remains of that apple if he survived this though it was likely that whatever he used was on the apple’s skin only… maybe they would pump his stomach and he could run a few tests. He tried to remember which dwarf came next when a pickaxe embedded itself in the tree beside his head.

Sherlock had paled at the shock but smiled a second later, a jumper wearing marksman that was just his John through and through and this must be Grumpy. Wishing for a cup of tea to placate the apparition Sherlock hauled the pickaxe out of the tree and carefully took himself out of range. “Good form on that throw” He praised John’s marksmanship whenever he could as it flattered John and Sherlock knew that he, himself, couldn’t hit a barn wall from the inside. Flattery it seems would not work on GrumpJohn who hefted the returned tool and threw it again into the same spot before rounding on Sherlock looking surly.

“You’re an idiot! You ate the damn apple, you have to wake up now or Mrs Hudson will cry, Mummy and Daddy will cry. You're making John Watson afraid" Sherlock started at GrumpyJohn's words and almost responded before a lazy slap snapped his head back, right back into reality.

**~~~**

John had raced home from the court house as quickly as possible but traffic had delayed him badly. When Sherlock had stopped responding to texts he’d been terrified and bounding up the stairs he saw he was correct. Sherlock was laid on the couch ashen and still, he was breathing but not by much as John hauled him down to floor. A frantic check showed no injuries but there was a half eaten apple core on the table beside Sherlock and, as John had frequently observed, Sherlock never ate fruit.

He grabbed his med kit and dialled an ambulance as he worked. DocJohn Sherlock's brain supplied with a dark chuckle as he opened his eyes, clearly not dead but the syringe beside him told him how close it had been. “Breath Sherlock, I known it hurts but breath please, for me" Anything for John. Sherlock knew he would do anything as he pulled stale indoor air into his aching chest. CPR then and the adrenalin jab, thank God for overly prepared army doctor’s. He was never eating fruit again.

He just wasn’t able to argue about the ambulance but then Lestrade had arrived and John had given the apple core to him! This drew a hum of protest from Sherlock but it was missed over the bustle, and the medical staff who had arrived then allowed John to take command. His John barked orders like he was on the battle field tending a wounded soldier not in his own home in London. Sherlock would have smiled but it was just too much effort… Mrs Hudson was crying as they left.

Sherlock hated A&E but apparently almost being killed got you a priority pass. He was seen almost at once and once the drip kicked in he found the strength to explain, loudly, that he already had a doctor! Where was John? John was found with his gaze buried in a cup of terrible tea and Lestrade beside him so they were both brought in to see a thoroughly revived Sherlock far from pleased to be in bed.

“Stop giving the nurses hell!” Clearly DocJohn was still in effect as he scanned Sherlock chart nodding over procedures and process and boring boring things. “Jaaawn I want to go home.” Sherlock knew he was whining but he was miserable, sore, and shaken. “Have you at least told Mrs Hudson that I’m okay. “We won’t know that for sure until after the test results Sherlock, and no I cannot do those at home. The Yard has your stomach contents, to pre-empt your next questions, and no you may not have any also you're not allowed to consult on your own attempted murder case!” Definitely DocJohn or maybe GrumpyJohn rather. Fortunately his smile was misinterpreted and he got a procedure lecture from Lestrade rather than another scolding from John. He decided sleep was preferable to being in trouble so he had a nap instead.

“Sherlock, Sherlock.” John woke him waving his file around, apparently the poison had been combined with a hallucinogen, he was supposed to die without even knowing he was being killed. A now HappyJohn explained that he would be stuck in the hospital until the next morning and was still not allowed to consult on his own case! He had a sulk but it didn’t work as John seemed too happy that he was alive. Mrs Hudson visited that evening, cried again, but it was fine as this time she was just relieved.

A still HappyJohn came to collect him the next morning in a very Mycroft looking black sedan. 221B was a mess of fingerprint powder and misplaced dust because John has stopped Mrs Hudson's cleaning to allow Sherlock to pick apart the investigation technique as a way to stay occupied.

Sherlock was forced to admit they had been thorough with the evidence of his almost murder. Thier meal was a simple stew from Mrs Hudson and John led Sherlock to bed early insisting he needed more rest. “I had to restart your heart yesterday Sherlock, please give it some rest, for me?” Had John learned that? Realised that Sherlock will do anything for him? Squeezing the hand that towed him along he tested as hypothesis “Would you stay in bed too please. You could check my vitals if I need further observation. For me?” A smile bloomed across John’s face before He yawned enormously.

SleepyJohn at last Sherlock thought to himself, he grinned at his clock which showed 03:30. He had woken in the middle of the night but he'd never needed much sleep so he did not mind at all, John lay fast asleep his chest and that was just fine as he could certainly monitor a heart rate like that. Sherlock had now met all seven Johns but decided he was quite content with his own one. 


End file.
